


Do You Believe in Fate?

by K_iddo



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: "FINALLY" sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fate, Fluff, Love, M/M, Smut, smut with feelings, very convenient coconut oil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 22:36:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18019748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_iddo/pseuds/K_iddo
Summary: Originally posted in two parts on tumblr, set directly after that incredibly cathartic scene between Oswald and Ed in 5x08, what we all wish had happened.





	Do You Believe in Fate?

**Author's Note:**

> Smut with feelings (really, with me, is there any other kind?) NOT part of my canon diverged 'Worthless to One' series.

“We really are meant for each other.”

And they laugh, harder than either of them has in months, harder than either of them has since Oswald was the Mayor, Ed his adviser, and they would eat together and genuinely really enjoy one another’s company in away Oswald never has with anyone before. He’s laughing because it’s so _ridiculous_ , all that’s happened between them, the dramatics of it all, the horrible, painful things they’ve done to one another; it’s ridiculous that all it has done has lead them back here, in this room, scheming together like nothing ever happened, and it’s even more ridiculous that’s it’s still true. They are meant for each other, Oswald still really, desperately believes that and it makes his chest ache.

Ed stops laughing first and Oswald, cheeks aching, swipes some of the blood off his cheek and starts to sit up. When the wide grin starts to fade from Ed’s face, Oswald looks up at him quizzically. Because he isn’t laughing, but that fondness is still there in his eyes, and Oswald hopes that it isn’t just delusion that’s making him see that. 

“What?” He asks, feeling suddenly a little nervous. 

_Please don’t take it back, please don’t look at me in disgust and walk away again._

“Oswald…” He says, and his voice is rough; Oswald looks at him with concern, and barely has time to push his weight onto his hands before Ed clears the space between them and falls to his knees in front of him, between Oswald’s legs. And he doesn’t have time to process _that_ before Ed’s long body is stretched over him and he presses a deep kiss to his mouth that makes him whimper in surprise, and clutch the back of Ed’s boiler suit without thinking. 

Thinking is impossible, it’s all feeling, and Oswald is so aware of every touch - the way his pointy nose is pressing against Ed’s cheek, the feel of the soft material between his fingers, Ed’s lips (exactly as plush as he’d always imagined) moving against his, his lithe, strong body covering his and the tight press of his hips against is that has the potential to kill him right here. Even Ed’s glasses pressing a little painfully into his cheek is delightful, because it’s _Ed_. 

When Ed’s tongue touches his, Oswald actually moans, and he threads his fingers into the back of Ed’s hair and undulates under him, he feels himself getting uncomfortably hard already and he is desperate to know if Ed is too. 

_I’ll wake up in a second, I always wake up when it gets good. This can’t be real._

But Ed pulls away for breath, and Oswald opens his eyes, and it is still very much happening. 

“This isn’t right.” Ed says, breathless, his cheeks glowing pink. Cold embarrassment and disappointment settles into Oswald’s stomach and he tries to fight the urge to beg him not to stop. 

“I know, I-“ His voice is stretched and reedy. 

“We’ve done some bad things but making out next to a dead body is a little much.” Amusement dances in Ed’s eyes as he glances guiltily at Penn a few feet away from them. 

_God, I really am a bastard that all it took to make me forget that was Ed on top of me._

That makes Oswald blush even redder, and he nods and releases Ed’s clothes so he can climb off him and get to his feet. Heat still buzzes low in his gut, and his fingers are trembling, but he’s sure that whatever _that_ was that the spell must be broken now they’ve actually parted and stopped riding that wave of manic energy. 

“Come on.” Ed holds out his hand to help Oswald up, and he accepts, taken by surprise yet again when he is tugged closer to Ed’s body heat and tilts his head to look up at him. “Let’s go to my room.” 

Oswald swallows. “What is happening?” His voice is shaking. 

_Why the hell did I have to say that out loud!?_

Ed lets a breath out of his nose and his confidence seems to fade a little, he looks down at the floor, then back up at Oswald. 

“I don’t know.” He says, and his hand raises to cup Oswald’s jaw and cheek, long fingers ghosting the shell of his ear. It feels just astoundingly good to have Ed touch him like this, and Oswald reaches up to hold his hand there. “I just feel…”

Ed searches for the words, looking at Oswald so intensely that he expects to burst into flames at any moment. 

“I feel like _myself_ … Both sides of myself, all of myself, right now, maybe more than I ever have.” His thumb strokes Oswald’s cheekbone and he shudders, fighting the urge to close his eyes because Ed is so incredibly beautiful that he can barely stand it. “And I think it’s because of you.” 

Oswald nods in understanding, feeling his chest wrench. 

“Do you still love me?” Ed asks, quiet and soft, and Oswald feels a lump form in his throat and the question and casts his eyes down to the ground. 

Because goddamn it, he has tried so hard for so long to not love him, it has been his mantra, his every day reaffirming to himself that _no he does not love Ed anymore_ , he probably never really did, he hates him in fact, he wants him dead.

But Oswald looks up at him, and despite everything he knows he absolutely does love him still, and he can’t imagine ever stopping. 

“Fuck.” Is all he can say, frustrated, that he is letting someone do this to him, and Ed breathes out a laugh, and kisses his forehead so sweetly that it’s impossible to believe that he was once the person who shot him and pushed him in the harbour. 

“Let’s go to my room.” Ed repeats, and his hand still doesn’t drop from Oswald’s face. He see him looking at his mouth, and Oswald self consciously wets his lips. “We have a lot to talk about, but it can wait for after.”

“After?” Oswald questions, looking up at him, heart racing. 

“I told you I feel like my whole self right now.” He says, and his thumb strokes Oswald’s bottom lip gently enough to tickle. “And it turns out my whole self really _really_ wants you.”

Oswald can hear his pulse thrumming in his ears and heat unfurls low, but he does his best to keep a straight face and not close his eyes and keen at the words he has been dreaming of hearing for so long, and that sound even better than he could have ever imagined. 

“Alright then.” He says, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he just reaches out the tip of his tongue to touch to Ed’s thumb, endlessly delighted in the way his mouth drops open slightly and the shiver he gets in return. “We’ll talk after.” 

 

* * *

Ed is glad he’s walking ahead, leading Oswald up to the little bedroom he’s made for himself in one of the old library study rooms, because he can squeeze his eyes shut and try to steady his breathing to try to fight off the nerves that are making him feel so raw. He’s excited too, and he’s glad he’s always had a steady hand because he knows his fingers would be trembling right now if he didn’t. 

It had crossed his mind, far too many times, what it would be like to sleep with Oswald; well, ‘crossed his mind’ is generous: permeated, filled, driven him to absolute distraction is more the case. He tried to fight it whenever it would, tried to make Oswald into a different person in his imagination or to think about something decidedly unappealing, but he has never been able to shake himself from persistent trains of thought, and Oswald has always been a persistent object of attention.

Persistent when they were friends, and he had genuinely, warmly cared about him, persistent when Oswald had told him he loved him and Ed had been struck with a confusion so profound it made him angry and persistent when they were enemies, and Ed had struggled between the need to destroy him and the _desperate want_ to kiss him and have him exactly as Oswald wanted in turn. 

He can remember the closest he’d ever got, when they had escaped from that ridiculous Court of Owls jail together, and they’d stood in that alley, breathless and covered in blood, and it had taken every bit of his self control not to grab Oswald and put their temporary truce to good use. How many times could they have done it in five hours? How well could he have gotten to know that body he tried his damnedest not to leer at when he had dressed his wounds in his apartment all that time ago?

The thought still makes him flush, but it brings him back to the present, in this room with Oswald, finally. 

“Well, I like what you’ve done with the place.” Oswald says, casually, but Ed sees him swallow deeply. It feels a little awkward now that they’ve stopped riding that wave of adrenaline; Ed is nervous still, he desperately does not want to mess this up.

Ed knows full well Oswald will not appreciate the look of this room, large mattress in the middle of the floor surrounded by papers and books, and covered in mismatched quilts that he’d scrounged together. Not at all austere enough for Oswald’s tastes. 

“It’s cozy.” He says, with a small shrug, and sits down on the edge of the mattress, criss crosses his long legs. “And safe.” He gestures to the bell system attached above the door, and doesn’t miss Oswald’s amused expression.

“Very… DIY.” Oswald says, and Ed wonders if he knows he crinkles his nose. Not that he cares, Ed’s missed Oswald being a little snob, he’s missed everything about him, honestly, desperately. He’s making a show of looking around his room, taking in the details, and Ed can see his fingers rubbing together, a nervous tick.

And it makes _him_ feel a little more relaxed, because there’s nothing to _be_ nervous about; they’re finally being honest with each other. They’re meant for each other, they respect one another, they want each other. 

“Come here, Oswald.” Ed says, tapping the bed next to him, and Oswald does, keeping his braced leg outstretched as he sits. He shrugs off his jacket, saying he feels hot, and Ed can believe it because he feels the same, uncomfortably so.

They haven’t been this close outside of fighting in a long time, and it hits Ed how much he’d missed this as well, having Oswald right beside him. 

He takes in his profile: the crescent smile lines cutting into his cheeks and his long sharp nose, and he can’t resist the urge to rest his hand on Oswald’s thigh. He glances down at the motion, letting out a shaky breath that Ed quickly catches with his mouth, kissing him more gently than he had downstairs. 

It feels so good, unbelievably good, like kissing no one has ever felt for him before. Oswald’s hand cups his jaw and his fingers stroke his cheekbone, and he eagerly kisses him back, leaning more of his body against his arm. Ed knows in that moment why it feels so good, because no one has ever loved him the way Oswald has, and he no longer has the energy or will to fight that truth anymore.

Oswald kisses him like he’s been waiting for it for years, and Ed hopes he’s returning that feeling.

When they pull apart, Ed leaves a little lick on Oswald’s lower lip and smiles when he sees he still has his eyes closed.

“Don’t stop.” Oswald says softly, and presses little kisses to Ed’s jawline instead. 

“I had to breathe.” Ed laughs a bit, but abruptly stops when Oswald drapes a leg over him to straddle his hips, and kisses him more firmly, weaving his fingers into his newly cut hair and holding onto him for dear life. “Oh.”

“I’ve wanted you for such a long time.” Oswald pulls back to say, and Ed flushes deep when he starts to unfasten his waistcoat. “Even when we were fighting, I thought about you, like this, all the time.” Ed’s heart races when the waistcoat hits the floor and he loosens his tie enough to pull it over his head. “It’s so hard to be angry with you when you’re so beautiful.” 

“I-“ His throat is dry, and his hands are resting uselessly on Oswald’s thighs. “God - Oswald.”

“Do you want me to shut up?” He asks, looking not at all nervous anymore, but excited and alluring.

“No, no, never.” Ed kisses him again, and moves his hands out of the way so he can work on his shirt buttons himself, grazing his skin as he reveals it and feeling his muscles quiver. Oswald is _so_ pale, and it gives Ed the distinct desire to mark that skin, just a little bit, just a little pink where his hands or mouth have been. 

He doesn’t realise he’s pulled back to look at him until Oswald chuckles embarrassedly. 

“Ed, it’s rude to stare.” He says, and Ed licks one of those dusky nipples in that expanse of perfectly smooth skin, making him wriggle delightfully on his lap and let out a shaky noise. Ed kisses up his chest, latches his mouth to the collarbone he has admired, sucks a little.

“God…” Oswald murmurs, and the delight he takes in Ed having his mouth on him spurs him on; he can feel his pulse building and the subtle movement of Oswald’s hips against his own is making him shockingly hard already. He kisses his way back down, rather frantically, until Oswald has to lean all the way up so he can kiss his belly, and then lift him off his lap to lie him down as he leaves a little nip on his abdomen.

Ed has seen Oswald looking similar to this before: supplicating, open mouthed, eyes slightly glassy, but it’s nothing compared to this. He looks like he wants Ed to absolutely devour him, and Ed wants that in turn. His blush covers his face and creeps down his chest, and Ed takes his teeth in his tongue and kneels above him to palm his erection through his trousers. 

“Ed.” Oswald puts a hand over his eyes, like he can’t believe this is happening, and Ed feels rather smug to have inspired that feeling in someone. It emboldens him to unfasten Oswald’s belt, and unzip his fly, trying not to think about the fact that he has never done this with a man before, and he suspects Oswald has and is risking dreadfully embarrassing himself. 

When he pulls his trousers down, he feels the fabric snag, and blushes deeply when he remembers the leather brace he had entirely forgotten. 

“Oh dear, sorry.” He rather clumsily tries to find the fastens on the contraption, embarrassed. “Am I - how do you-“

“Here, Ed.” Oswald is laughing breathlessly when he sits up to do it himself, gently batting his hands away. He watches Oswald’s fingers unfasten the buckle to remove it, along with his shoe, making a mental note since this is not the last time he intends to undress him.

“I noticed your walking had improved.” Ed sits back on his haunches to finish pulling Oswald’s trousers off, and mentally curses himself for talking about it _now._

“Yes it’s been very-“ Ed tosses Oswald’s trousers somewhere on the ground. “-helpful-“

Oswald is obviously as ready as him; Ed can clearly see the outline of his cock through his black underwear, and he feels himself throb. He looks so desperate already, he can hardly imagine how he must look when he’s close to the edge, in Ed’s hand or his mouth. 

When he reaches for the waistband of Oswald’s underwear, he doesn’t expect to be stopped and looks up at him with confusion.

“Do you think we could at least get your _boots_ off before I’m completely naked?” He says, looking down pointedly at Ed, still fully clothed in his boiler suit. 

“Ah, yes,” Ed chuckles a little, “we can do that.” 

He stands up beside the mattress, toeing off his shoes before pulling down the zip of the suit, it’s a little embarrassing, he feels very exposed, but Oswald doesn’t look embarrassed at all. Tongue between his teeth, he watches with a small, cocky smile as more of his skin is exposed down to his navel.  
  
“You weren’t wearing anything under that?” Oswald asks, husky.

“Well… briefs, yes, but nothing else, I get hot when I work.” When the zip is to his navel, he shrugs it off his shoulders and steps out of it. 

God, he wishes Oswald weren’t at such a low angle looking up at him, this cannot be flattering. 

“You know, all those times you tried to kill me in such elaborate ways and I think _this_ could be the thing that finally does me in.” Oswald’s levity actually makes it much easier. This moment feels too monumental, the build up has been so long and excruciating, and being able to laugh a little alleviates some of that pressure. 

The compliment is appreciated too, he hadn’t realised how much he enjoyed having praise lavished on him until Oswald is the one doing it.  
  
“Shut up.” Ed chuckles and kneels back on the mattress, and kisses him again because he absolutely can not get enough of the feel of Oswald’s mouth on his own. He’s a better kisser than he’d thought he’d be. Every time Oswald’s tongue touches against his own, Ed finds himself chasing it, feeling as if he could do just this for days.

It feels nothing short of _right_ to feel his skin against Oswald’s when he lays on top of him; Oswald’s hands run up his back, chilling him, and they smooth over his shoulders and down his chest as if he is mapping him out.  
  
“I could tell you would look amazing under that suit.” He murmurs against his lips, and Oswald’s hand slips between them to squeeze his cock confidently, making Ed huff out a groan and grind against his palm, chasing the friction. Oswald moans in return and moves his hand to firmly grind his hips against his so their clothed cocks rub together deliciously and torturously.

“Turn over.” Oswald commands quietly, guiding Ed off him and onto his back. He enjoys the weight of Oswald on top of him again when he returns to his place on his thighs, and sees the muscles in his own stomach jump when Oswald tugs down his underwear, glancing at his face to check for protest. 

There is none, Ed actually feels sweat prick his forehead when his cock is freed, hard and leaking against his abdomen. Oswald lip catches between his teeth, and he wastes no time in wrapping his hand around him and slowly, experimentally starting to work it. 

“Jesus, Oswald.” Ed doesn’t know where to look, Oswald’s hand around his cock is too painfully erotic to keep his eyes on, his fascinated, lustful expression is too much as well, never mind the sight of his almost naked body, soft and hot, right there on top of him. 

It’s almost a surprise that Oswald feels warm; he looks like he should be cold to the touch, all inky black points and alabaster skin. But he’s searing, and flushed, and so wonderfully alive. 

“Tell me exactly what you want.” Oswald says, and he focuses on the tip, which sends Ed hurtling towards the end far quicker than he wants. The sound of his voice isn’t helping either. “I’ll do anything you want.”

Ed catches Oswald’s hand quickly, making him stop. 

“I want you to stop trying to make me finish in thirty seconds like a teenager.” 

“Well, that’s not what I was _trying_ to do.” He has the gaul to look a little smug, and just strokes the underside of Ed’s cock with his fingertips, making him shudder. “I would like to see that though.” 

Oswald leans back down to kiss him again, and speaks against his lips.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

And Ed can’t believe he’s actually hearing those words, it actually makes him moan into his mouth and he pulls Oswald tight to him, following the impulse to take a handful of his ass and squeeze. Yes, yes, he does, so much, more than anything.

All he can do is nod though, and enjoy the smile he feels from Oswald. 

Pulling back, he sits up and glances around the room. “I don’t suppose you happen to have anything that might make that a little easier… here?” He asks, suddenly coy. Ed certainly does not have a bottle of lube lying around.

“Will coconut oil do?” Ed asks, feeling his ears hot at how real this is.

“What on earth do you use coconut oil for?” Oswald asks with amusement. 

“Cooking.” Ed says defensively, and gets a skeptical look in return. “And skincare.” He admits with an eye roll. 

“Yes, that will do, where is it?” Oswald gets off of him to find it, and when he returns, he pauses by the side of the mattress to take off his underwear finally before climbing back onto the bed. His cock is of average size, if a little thicker than Ed’s, and he feels himself throb looking at it all flushed and incredibly hard between his legs. 

Oswald sets it down beside him on the mattress, and doesn’t open it yet, instead kneeling between Ed’s legs and putting him in his mouth before he has time to think.

“Ohh… fuck.” It’s a shock, the heat and wetness of Oswald’s mouth around him, and he wastes no time in building up a rhythm, sucking him, taking him so far into his mouth and throat that Ed doesn’t know how he isn’t choking. 

He is startling good at this, this is definitely not his first time, or even his tenth or eleventh - the thought almost makes Ed feel jealous of whoever had this before him - but he doesn’t have the mental capacity to dwell on it. It feels so good, and it will only have been practice for him anyway because Ed knows he is the last person that’s ever going to have Oswald’s mouth on them like this. 

Unable to resist, Ed looks down his body at Oswald, who has his eyes closed as he works him with his hand and mouth in tandem, moaning around the flesh like it is the best thing he has ever tasted. Ed’s vision actually feels hazy, he has to look away from the stretch of Oswald’s pink lips around him. 

When he feels Oswald reach up a hand to fondle his balls, Ed has to stop him again.

“Damnit, Oswald.” He laughs shakily, his voice coming out stuttered. Even the sound of his cock popping from Oswald’s mouth is too much. “I thought you wanted me to fuck you?”  
  
“I do, but it was just too pretty to resist.” Oswald is out of breath too and his cheeks are glowing. When he unscrews the lid of the pot, Ed blushes deeply, because this part is brand new to him; Oswald gets a good scoop of the oil and warms it on his fingers before reaching around to slick himself.

Ed realises he’s being rather useless again, so he takes the initiative to get his hand around Oswald’s cock finally, brushing aside the thought that it is the first one he’s ever touched that hasn’t been his own. Oswald shudders and lets out a breathy whimper, seating himself back on Ed’s thighs and letting him stroke him for a moment.

It feels so easy, because Ed would do anything to keep that look on Oswald’s face and to keep him making those sounds on top of him. So he goes a little further, reaching around to experimentally slip his fingers into Oswald’s cheeks, finding him slicked up and warm. When his fingertip teases where he intends to put himself in soon, Oswald jolts slightly.

“Oh, god, Ed.” He leans forward on his arms over him, accepting the attention.

“Does that feel good?” Ed asks, because he genuinely wants to know as he attempts to work Oswald’s cock at the same time as teasing his middle finger inside him.

“Mmhmm.” Oswald’s brow knits together, and he rocks back against Ed’s hand, keening again then he adds another finger and moves them, getting used to the feel of him. “Fuck, stop teasing me, I need it, I’ve been waiting too long.” 

“Okay.” Is all Ed can say, moving his hand away and wiping the excess oil off on the sheet. Oswald’s hips hitch over him, and he takes Ed’s cock in hand to guide it against his asshole, just sinking down on the tip to get them both used to the feeling.

Already, Ed cannot believe how good it feels, and he just holds Oswald’s hips as he lowers himself down on Ed’s cock until he’s fully seated with a long, bit back whine. Easy as that, Ed inside Oswald like they’d both wanted and battled with wanting for so much time. 

“You feel really good.” Ed tells him, voice rough, as he enjoys the tight, wet heat around him.

“So do you.” Oswald says breathlessly, and he raises and lowers himself, making Ed groan too loudly and grip his ass hard. Oswald seems to like it, placing his hands on Ed’s chest to pick up a rhythm, grinding a little every time Ed fills him up and digging his blunt nails into his skin.

“Ahh, ahh, oh my god.” Oswald whines, his voice stretched to nothing. Ed watches his red lips open and his eyes close, looking completely lost while being entirely in control of his body and making Ed dizzy. 

Nothing, _nothing_ has ever felt this good. 

He wants to be connected to Oswald’s mouth all the time, so he pulls him down to kiss him wetly, doing his best to angle his hips up and fill him up deeper. 

“Oh, fuck.” Oswald moans into his mouth, stilling for a second. “Do that again, right there, just like that.” And he does as he’s told, the choked noise he gets in return threatening to push him over the edge. He takes the initiative to hold Oswald still and repeat the motion over and over, quick, hitting that spot in him that makes his eyes squeeze shut and him whimper and moan breathlessly over his lips.

He likes being this close to Oswald’s face while he gives him the pleasure, to see the sweat on his brow and feel the tip of his nose poke his cheek.

“You’re beautiful too.” Ed huffs out, and staying inside Oswald, he swiftly turns them over so he’s on top. “I’m sorry I haven’t said that yet but - _fuck_ \- you really are.” 

Oswald just makes some incoherent sound in return, and Ed grips the sheets under his armpit for purchase so he can really fuck him properly, caring not a bit for the undignified noises he is making himself. Why the hell had they waited so long to do this? Why couldn’t he have seen how Oswald felt about him back then and taken it with both hands? 

Ed laments the wasted time, the anger, but resolves that he is going to make up for it because he is about to finish and knows this is not going to be the last time. Not the last time this week or _today_ , even. 

A strong calf locks behind his thigh and makes his movements short and shallow, staying deep. 

“I’m sorry for everything - god you’re perfect and I’m sorry.” He’s babbling, he can’t help it, his pulse is thudding in his ears and his head is swimming, just chasing that climax.

“Shh.” Oswald’s hand strokes the back of his hair. “It’s okay, we’re not going to hurt each other again - _unngh_ \- just don’t ever stop.” 

Ed feels absolutely surrounded by him, his body, his voice, the heat of him, and he can’t help it spilling out of his mouth. “I love you.” 

“ _Ah_! Ed…” Oswald grips onto him tight, and Ed feels the wet spurt across Oswald’s stomach and his own, and then the spasm of Oswald around him as he twitches and rides out that feeling. “Oh my god, oh my god come inside me please, please.” He murmurs senselessly. 

And that’s enough, Ed does, probably the hardest he ever has in his life, swearing loudly and moaning as he fills Oswald up, bunching the sheet up in his hand and pressing his hips flush to Oswald’s. He guides him through it, keeping his leg tight around him as he takes it, murmuring filthy encouragement into his ear even as the feeling of his orgasm stretches on for way longer than he is used to.

His head falls to Oswald’s shoulder, and he swallows deeply in a useless attempt to wet his dry throat, panting like he’s just sprinted several blocks. Oswald is doing the same, still holding onto him with his arms and leg though his muscles have relaxed. He just strokes Ed’s sweaty back, and Ed absentmindedly licks some of the salty dew off Oswald’s neck. 

When he sits his head up to look at him, Oswald smiles tiredly and brushes his hair off his forehead.  
  
“Your hair is curly.” He says, hoarsely. Ed regards him for a second.

“Yours is just a mess.” He says, and carefully pulls out of Oswald with a wince at the sensitivity. They can clean up in a moment, he is quite sure his legs won’t support him just yet, so he falls onto his back on the mattress.

“On this occasion I’ll say it’s worth it.” 

Ed props his head up so he can look at Oswald, the Penguin, pink-skinned and naked and covered in his own come, and he knows how stupid he has been for waiting so long to get him like this.

“Do you need anything?” He asks, and he means water, or a towel, but the question comes out much more serious and loaded than he intends it to.

Oswald looks up at him, and Ed sees that unguarded, hopeful innocence in his shining eyes. For once, it’s nice to know he isn’t about to spoil it. 

“Do you really love me?” He asks, sounding so young and small that Ed feels a clench in his chest.

So he has to be honest with him, because he no longer has any desire to be any other way.

“More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” He admits, a lump forming in his throat unexpectedly. “I’d do anything for you.” 

At that, he sees a tear break Oswald’s eye, but he smiles and lets out a relieved breath, swiping it away.

“Then no, I don’t need anything.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly this was so quick and fun to write. Apologies for any typos I'll be back to edit many times lmao
> 
> Find me on tumblr:
> 
> everyonehasacobblepot.tumblr.com (Gotham only)
> 
> bloody--holly.tumblr.com (main)


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